


familia amoris

by milo_the_fish



Series: irl fics [2]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Gen, IRL Fic, Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:08:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29598765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milo_the_fish/pseuds/milo_the_fish
Summary: Tommy has to write a letter to someone who has helped him greatly, but all of the other ones fall through until he writes to the one person he didn't want to send it to.
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: irl fics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2175402
Comments: 24
Kudos: 508
Collections: Completed stories I've read, SBI Fics to Make Sebbie Cry





	familia amoris

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vi bc definitely this will end you](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=vi+bc+definitely+this+will+end+you).



> If Wilbur or Tommy state they are uncomfortable with this fic I will take it down.

Tommy had thought the assignment was stupid at first, something you would give school children so that they could write a sappy letter to their parents. It didn’t seem to fit a college class, one meant for kids older than ten, but here he is, staring at the rubric on his PC and wondering what he is going to do. The assignment was writing someone they considered a hero, a person who has greatly affected them and changed them as a whole, he can hear his teacher voice in his ear about “it has to be genuine” ringing in his head. The thing is, about this letter, Tommy doesn’t know who fits that category. He has a lot of friends who could fit that description, from Tubbo to Dream, hell even Phil, Techno, or Niki could fit the bill, but none of his attempts to write to them have worked. He’s known what they’ve done for him, he knows the impact they have made in his life, but none of it _fit_. Their impact wasn’t great enough, or he couldn’t make the sentences work together, and it’s starting to frustrate him. His backspace keycap was probably halfway to breaking from how much he was using it, tapping harshly and quickly due to frustration.

There was one person he was avoiding for this topic though, knowing that maybe giving him a genuine piece would possibly bring about more teasing, but Tommy has given up on all other options so now he’s just staring at the words on his screen.

_Dear Wilbur,_

He keeps looking at the blinking cursor, trying to collect his thoughts, his memories; his feelings about Wilbur. It was obvious that Tommy viewed him as an older brother figure, always saying it in their videos and streams together, and he always anticipated Wilbur’s playful, “Don’t say that I will cry,” in return. It was like clockwork at this point, he brings up their very obvious brotherhood, and Wilbur denies it. Tommy knows that Wilbur can be a sincere person, he always is a kind voice educating him when he does something wrong, always the first one to reassure him that bits are just bits and that Tommy is not what the comments say about him. It’s just that Wilbur avoids being too serious, hell, Tommy found out that Wilbur considered him his best friend through a stream clip. His older brother doesn’t talk about his issues, avoiding the topic as if he would burden Tommy, and sometimes Tommy wants to smack some sense into him (he doesn’t, though).

This letter, depending on if he takes it seriously or not, could get two reactions: 1) Wilbur teasing him endlessly and cooing at him about being _“big brother Wilby”_ , 2) Wilbur could laugh about it to their friends because it having some funny jokes littered in. It’s just- He's not in the particular mood to be funny, to make a joke out of this, he just wants the assignment to be over with. He hovers his fingers over the keys for a moment, erasing the introduction, and starts again.

_Will, hey,_

_It’s me, Tommy! You know, well, of course you know me, I’m your best friend. (And I think you’re mine, don’t tell Toby, though, he’d be right pissed off, yeah?)_

He pauses, knowing that if he continues, he’s going to become more and more genuine, because his tired brain just wishes to be over with this and it lost its filter hours ago. There is no going back from this, from baring this part of his soul to Wilbur, and to his teacher who definitely isn’t going to expect that of him (he’s _shy Tom_ to her, not TommyInnit), but maybe he’s okay with that, with at least showing his big brother how much he cares about him. (Tommy also wonders when Wilbur became “big brother” in his mind, and why when he thinks of _home_ , he thinks about the hug they shared on Brighton beach.) Tommy continues,

_So, you’re probably wondering why I’m sending this message through the post and not on discord, but eh—why not make a letter? It’ll be like good ‘ol Hamilton, yeah? With the letters and stuff (sorry big dubs, can’t swear or I’ll be killed by my many girlfriends, and maybe MotherInnit). For class, you know the creative writing one I’ve been talking to you about, yeah? We have to make a letter to someone we consider a hero, some stupid Valentine’s day project or something, but—eh—there was a heavy reference to family members so that’s why I’m writing to you (and not Philza Minecraft, I don’t think his fragile old man body could handle a letter from the Great Tommy Innit), anyways, you’re my older brother and I wanted you to know how much you’ve helped me._

He takes a breath, exhaling slowly, and turning up his music, and attempting to hone in on the internal dictionary of complex words that he’s picked up over the years.

_Will, you mean the absolute world to me, and I know I always sing your praises and stuff, but you seriously are the best big brother I could ever ask for. Even if you incessantly bully me (am I using that word correctly? I’m too tired to check) and always call me “a gremlin child”, I still look forward to calling you every day and kicking your butt on Hypixel. You’re one of the only people to not get annoyed with me, even when I get at my most... challenging? Just, when I’m being a right ‘ol prick you sort me out, and I don’t thank you enough for it. So, uh, thanks Will, for dealing with me, for still caring, I guess? You could’ve chosen anyone else, and sometimes I wonder what life would be like if we weren’t best friends (*brothers) and I don’t think I like to dwell (?) on that universe._

_You’ve made me who I am, Wilby, and I swear to the Queen if you tease me about using the nickname in this letter, I’ll set off Techno an shit on you (I’m allowed this one swear, please). There is no one else I'd rather create a nation with, no one else that I’d rather get exiled with, big man. You made those times bright and wonderful, bringing them to life, and there’s no one else I’d rather do it with. Seriously, Wilbur, you are one of the most talented and creative people I have ever met, and I’ve met soooo many. I know you don’t believe in your greatness, but I believe you’re bloody excellent, Will._

_Even with just the smallest things you do, Will, they bring me happiness, they make me feel all right. You protect me, you may tease and taunt me, but you always make sure I’m okay. You have the biggest and warmest of hugs, and you make me feel safe, you make me feel at home. I know you feel it too, Will, and it’s okay if you won’t want to accept it, I know you love me, and I love you back._

_I want to thank you, Wilbur, for everything you’ve done, every time you talked me down from anxiety-ridden bouts, for providing safe spaces for me and Toby (I know we don’t really show our appreciation, but I promise we do), for checking in on me, and thank you, for just being you. I know that your brain is messed up and tells you some terrible things, convincing you of stuff that isn’t true, but I’m gonna say one thing that should keep them at bay for a short while: Wilbur Soot, you are my best friend, my big brother, and you’re never getting rid of me, if I can help it, and I definitely can help it. (And maybe you are my hero, Will, for just being who you are.)_

_Love,_

_Tommy._

He finishes, ignoring the slight shaking radiating from his hands, and he saves the file as a pdf and sends it off to his teacher’s email, telling her the address of Wilbur’s house as well, because she’s printing them out and sending them herself. Tommy was skeptical if it was going to reach Brighton by the fourteenth, considering it was just the twelfth, but he hoped to be getting a teary and emotional discord call from Wilbur, because his parents were going out on a date night and leaving him in for the evening.

Tommy was right about the emotional part, but he wasn’t correct about the phone call. When he had gotten home from college, he sent Wilbur his usual “back home, m8” that indicated if Wilbur needed to speak, he was free, but he didn’t get a message in response so he started working on the new editing he had for his film course instead. A few hours passed as he worked, and it was only interrupted by his mom entering the room and telling him they were off, and that they had a package arriving today so he’d have to get the door. He nodded and saved his work, getting up to feed the dogs as they left, she laughed and kissed his forehead. “You be good, Tom, don’t burn the house down,” and he laughs, “No promises.” Tommy opens the patio door to let Walter and Betty out into the yard to do their business and when he gets inside, he hears a knock, it must be the delivery guy, so he pads over to the door. With two clicks the front door is unlocked and he swings the door in, and instead of a delivery guy with a package, there stands Wilbur Soot, clothes slightly disheveled and eyes blood-shot. He doesn’t know what to say, or what to do, because he hadn’t expected Wilbur to _actually_ drive the few hours to his hometown from Brighton, but it seems that his big brother decided to.

Wilbur interrupts Tommy’s inner turmoil with just one word, “You.” That’s when Tommy is absolutely engulfed into a hug, and he feels that same warmth and belonging he felt all those months ago. His big brother never fails to make him feel shielded from the world, to make him ignore the dogs that were now yipping at their feet. Tommy attempts to pull back but Wilbur just grips him tighter, and he giggles into his brother’s shoulder, “You, TommyInnit, are not allowed to be genuine ever again.” That’s when Tommy cackles, squeezing Wilbur back, “I was just telling you how it is, big man.” Wilbur sighs, placing his chin on top of Tommy’s head, “When it arrived, I was so confused, I’d thought I’d gotten doxed or some shit, but when I ripped open that little letter, I lost it, Toms. You’re not supposed to make me cry, that’s my job.” Tommy hums, “I’ve always been a girlfriend stealer, might as well be a job stealer.” That makes Wilbur start laughing, and he could feel the large intakes of air against him and it feels like a rumbling in a way, like a really loud heartbeat. He nudges his head even further onto Wilbur and starts to bury himself into the crook of his neck.

“Seriously, though, thank you, Tommy,” Wilbur ruffles his hair awkwardly, “The letter was absolutely wonderful.” Tommy gives a little “hmm” at the affectionate touch, “I just need to make one for you, because you’ve done a lot for me too, Tommy, probably so much that I could write a whole novel.” The boy chuckles at that, “Yeah, gimme a ‘How TommyInnit is the Best’ book, big dubs.” They both burst into small chuckles at the sheer absurdity of the idea. “Will do, Thomas,” he smiles, knowing the boy can’t see his grin, too busy burrowing himself into his black sweater.

For a few moments, they just bask in each other’s presence, ignoring the whines from Walter and Betty, and the fact that they are just standing in the front doorway of Tommy’s house, hugging. “Will, don’t take this the wrong way, but did you only come here to hug me or?” Wilbur snorts, “Your parents invited me over to babysit you during their date night.” Tommy pulled away for a moment and looked at Wilbur, the awe on his face for a moment, until it turns into a shit-eating grin, “I’m not a child, bitch, I don’t need a babysitter.” Wilbur’s smile starts to match Tommy’s, knowing exactly what to say to pick at his little brother’s buttons, “So you want me to leave, then?” The boy’s eyes widen, not knowing if to keep going with the bit or tell Wilbur he does want him to stay, that he’s so incredibly happy to see him again. “Please stay, Will,” he whispers, and Wilbur pulls him back into the hug, “Thought so, bubs.” He rests his chin back on his brother’s hair and taking a deep breath, and just enjoying the feeling: _home_.

**Author's Note:**

> BRO I SPEEDRAN THIS IN LIKE THREE TO FOUR HOURS HOLY FUCK also thank you for reading im losing my shit at the support some of y'all give me, it's nuts


End file.
